“Then get her a charity!” Max leaned forward. “You understand, Benedict, that a wife can be a significant boon to a man’s career. Especially in politics.”
“I do not need help. I need heirs and a wife who allows me my freedom.”
Max snorted. “There are any number of society women who will do that. Hell, Kimberly might even do that if it meant she could skip the folderol of stepping into the Marriage Mart.”
“I have made my decision. If I am to steer people to your lady’s apothecary, then you can help me in—”
“What? Bringing your lady customers?”
Benedict shook his head. “I should like you to introduce her to Yihui. I believe they could aid one another. Provided, of course, that the shop remains above reproach.”
Max huffed. “You just said she need not kill anyone. Now you want her to be above reproach?”
“It would not benefit my wife to associate with a shop filled with charlatans.”
The idea was preposterous. Benedict could not marry a working woman. And yet, he had never seen his friend more determined.
“You are mad.”
“Just be sure that the apothecary is of good quality. Leave the handling of my wife to me.”
Max stared at his friend. The man was crazy. He was adept at many things. Indeed, as a diplomat, he had successfully balanced the demands of warring nations, greedy tyrants, and bizarre customs. But this was not something he could do. He could not marry a working woman without setting the entiretonon its ear.
“It won’t work. You know it won’t.”
“It will never work until someone makes it so.” And with that, Benedict relaxed back in his chair and lifted his drink will all appearance of calm. Except Max had known him for years now. He knew Benedict wasn’t nearly as confident as he pretended.
“You’re heading for a disaster,” Max said. “But if you want, I shall stand by the side of the road and watch you destroy yourself.” He said the words. Indeed, he meant them, but as he spoke, he thought about the joy he had seen in Yihui’s face as she inspected her herbs. She’d been happy at her task, blissfully so. Why had he been taught to disdain such a joyous occupation in a woman? Why was the wife of a peer disallowed from productive occupation?
“You will do more than watch me, Max,” Benedict said, his voice hard. “You will help me hide her passion from those who would destroy her.”
Max nodded. That was indeed the promise he had given Benedict. He truly did believe it would be a disaster, but he could not fault a man for pursuing the woman of his dreams.
“You must love her very much.”
Benedict’s eyes jerked back to him in shock. “Love? Good God, I’m not so idiotic as that.”
“But—”
“She suits my needs perfectly, Max. That is all.”
And that is where he intended to end the conversation, but Max couldn’t keep himself from poking one last time. “I look forward to your coming courtship.” Benedict had already toldhim that he hadn’t yet made his intentions known to the lady in question. “When do you plan to begin?”
“Soon. As in diplomacy, timing is everything.”
After that, the conversation drifted to the movements of armies and the diplomatic negotiations behind the scenes. It was a pleasant discussion, one that allowed him to focus purely on the affairs of nations without the anxiety of personal problems. And yet, even as the talk continued, his mind wandered back to the sight of Yihui at her table, Yihui in his arms, Yihui as she writhed in pleasure.
How she fascinated him! He knew he needed to set her aside, and yet, every part of him rebelled at the idea.
He was still struggling with this idea when they were interrupted by pounding feet as Christopher burst into the room.
“Good God!” he uttered, the words half curse, half gasp. “I’ve been looking all over town for you.” The man grabbed a chair and plunked it down right beside them. Worse, he lifted the brandy snifter right out of Max’s hand and took a healthy swig.
“How the hell did you get in here?” Max asked. Of all his friends, it had caused him the most guilt to not share this most secret of havens with Chris. And yet here he was, plunking himself down as if he were a founding member.
Chris rolled his eyes. “I followed you here years ago.”
“Followed me!”
